


Three Long Months: A Departure

by charrmandur



Series: Three Long Months [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Masturbation, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bisexual Rey (Star Wars), Drug Use, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Female Masturbation, Gender reassignment surgery, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV Queer Character, POV Rey (Star Wars), Queer Character, Queer Themes, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Self-Harm, Sexy Times, Shower Sex, Stormpilot, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, Vaginal Sex, grs, implied damrey, more transphobia, squirting Rey, transgender Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charrmandur/pseuds/charrmandur
Summary: Eighteen months after Rey leaves conversion therapy, she is able to begin healing. She also runs into an old frenemy, Ben Solo. Together, they chip away at the pain of the past.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Three Long Months [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881370
Comments: 12
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BuffShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffShipper/gifts).



It’s been eighteen long months since I had to step foot in that place. And to say I miss those hallways would be a straight up lie. I’m chipping away at not only the emotional trauma I endured, but the physical wounds as well. A month from now, I’ll have finished my year in physical therapy for the damage they did to my arms, specifically my left side. After that, I hope to find some sense of normalcy again; I’ve given up getting over the nightmares, hyper vigilance, and near constant flashbacks.

-

Yesterday, while walking into my first therapy session in five months, I saw Ben, BEN FUCKING SOLO. One of the only boys I have ever had feelings for, the boy with the cute nose and the sweetest smile; the boy I may or may not have punched in conversion therapy because of his mother. We walked into the same therapy clinic at the same, and guess who has a date in five minutes?

-

I’m pacing around my front room waiting for him to arrive. It’s seven o’clock already and he’s not here. He said he’d be here at seven exact; I’m starting to panic just a tiny bit when I hear a knock at my door. I look through the peephole to see who it is, and … it’s just the pizza I ordered forty-five minutes ago, sighing I open the door and end up face to chest with Benjamin, and of course the pizza guy.

“Holy shit Ben, I always forgot how tall you are,” I stand back a ways, trying to hide my smile, and look towards the pizza dude and hold out the twenty dollars I owe him, “I hope you don’t mind Hawaiian.” 

Ben shakes his head, his dark waves flowing longer than usual; I shake my head and try to rid myself of this funny feeling.

“Let’s head in and eat, shall we.” I open the door to my house and lead us inside; Ben takes a moment to soak it all in. Quite honestly, there is a lot to take in with our house, especially with three queer women running the place. The home itself, it isn’t in the best of conditions. I honestly suspect if it weren’t for us, it’d be condemned. Two over stuffed couches take up way too much space in the front room, making everything feel smaller and tighter than they should. Rainbow stripes race along the walls, and pictures of us hang almost haphazardly every so often. “We can either eat in here, or my room,” I venture, hoping to make my guest feel a bit more comfortable. I know guests can be a bit overwhelmed when they first come over.

He looks at me with those gorgeous brown eyes, before shrugging casually; “You’re room sounds fine.”

I nod, and take him to my room. It’s a bit more subdued than the rest of the house. Smaller too. Probably the smallest bedroom of the four, but I’m grateful with what I have. We sit down on my full size bed, placing the pizza between us, I scoop up a slice, and Ben does the same. The pair of us eats there in silence for quite some time before it gets unbearable and Ben breaks the still air. 

“I can stay for an hour, but I’ve been called into work tonight,” he looks away for a moment, “But there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you; something weighing on my mind for quite some time now.”

Nodding, “Ben, you can tell me anything.”

“I,” he pauses for a moment, as he begins to play with a loose string on his oversized sweatshirt, “I don’t think conversion therapy helped. I still identify as female, I cringe anytime someone calls me Ben and I am at wits end with my job, my mom and life. I drill holes in sheet metal for a living and I am stressed beyond belief with all of the toxic masculinity being pushed down my throat every godamn day,” the words seem to tumble out of his mouth. 

Reaching out for his hand, which he reluctantly lets me take, we both find relief in each others grasp, “what happened to ‘Kylo’?” I entreat. 

“I thought conversion therapy would have fixed that,” he mumbles, attempting to shrug me off, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y’know, conversion therapy just teaches you to hide what people say is shameful, but in all honestly it’s something we should embrace within ourselves,” I feel wetness at the corners of my eyes, and I finally accept what my therapist had been trying to drill into my thick skull – the therapist I fired five months ago. 

Ben says there’s something he must do, and stands to leave. I follow him to the door, and say, “Before you go,” I lean up for a kiss, and he lightly pats me on the head. Blinking slowly, I look at him confused.

“Next time kiddo,” he smiles his award winning smile and hurries into the sunset, leaving me slightly confused and more infatuated than I’ve felt since before conversion therapy. 

-

It’s time for bed and holy hell am I horny. I’ve been thinking a lot about Ben and my roommates are out at the bar, so I take the opportunity to try and pleasure myself. I get situated on one of the large couches of ours, and gently slide my left hand into my pajama bottoms, when I feel a sudden sharp pain. I am met with a flood of emotions; tears begin to fall freely as I see a shadowy figure through the glass opening of the front door, and hear a series of frantic knocking. I peer out and see Ben, disheveled as hell, eyes blood shot and almost just as puffy as mine, with a large duffel bag. I open the door quickly and he stumbles in almost unable to hold himself upright.

“Ben? What happened to you?” I look him over with worried eyes.

“Remember what I told you I had to go deal with,” a downtrodden expression crosses his face, “well, the repercussions of true to who I am are, I no longer have a job and my own mother disowned me.” 

I go rigid with anger and anxiety, how dare anyone treat him like this. I then think of my own family, who disappeared after realizing I was a queer woman. That’s what started this whole cycle in the first place. But I digress; 

“Ben, I’m proud of you,” a small smile spreads across my face, and he can’t help but match my expression, I sigh softly and go to take his hand in mine when he recoils from my touch. That’s when I notice the blood on his sweatshirt. And there’s not just a tiny bit, there’s enough to be concerned about. He’s caught me looking at the blood and, dropping the duffle bag, he puts his arms behind his back. Huffing, I grab his arm and attempt to get it where I can see it properly. But I can’t, he’s stronger than me, “Please Ben, you’ve obviously lost a lot of blood and we need to get you taken care of.”

It’s a battle of wills for a few moments, me verses him, I’m still holding onto his arm. Sighing he finally relents. Leaving his duffle where it sits, we make our way to the dingy bathroom that has a tinge of black mold in the corners that no one seems to want to talk about. 

“Sit,” I say, motioning towards the toilet, he just nods and does exactly what I say. I rummage through the cupboards hoping we have the supplies necessary to deal with the wounds he has inflicted upon himself. 

I look at the things I’ve collected, and believe I have everything I need. Gauze? Check. Rubbing alcohol? Check. Ace bandage? Check. Small rag? Check.

“Alright, this isn’t going to be very pleasant,” Ben looks me with almost emotionless eyes, all hope gone from them, “But I’ll take good care of you, okay?”

“I trust you, Rey.” 

“Okay, we need to start by taking this darned sweatshirt off,” using his non-injured arm, he grabs the hem of the sweater and pulls upward, I step closer and take the hem of the sweatshirt from him and pull it over his head so only his arms are in the garment. Gently pulling it off his body, I toss it aside, deciding we can deal with it later. 

Sitting on the edge of the tub, I make sure the supplies are in arms reach. Satisfied with my little set up, I go to work fixing Ben’s arm. Blood has coated most if not all of his lower arm. Four gashes run parallel along his inner forearm. The blood is mostly dry at this point. I grab the small rag and dampen it slightly; Ben then offers me his arm which means crossing it over his large frame and causing him pain. As I move to better accommodate cleaning the poor boy, I causally mention that we recently had a roommate move out and had a room available for rent.

“Rey, I just lost my job, remember?” rolling his eyes.

I had to stop and think for a minute, our eldest roommate ran a bookstore. A queer bookstore to boot, and Ben would fit the part just so. 

“I think,” I stop mopping up the blood for a moment, “I could get you a job at Quinton’s Books. It’s where I work, and the roommate that just moved? Her position there is up for grabs.”

Ben is beginning to look a bit more hopeful at his perspective future, and I go back to work patching him up. The blood is cleaned off and now it’s time to disinfect. I grab another rag and douse it in rubbing alcohol and run it along the wounds, wincing Ben tries to act tough but I know it hurts, so I try to act fast and get this part done with as soon as possible. When that horrid stage is over, I place some gauze over the wounds and wrap an ace bandage around the whole damn thing. 

“If I’ve gotten this far, I guess I will join you.” Ben says with the hint of a smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, confused. 

Laughing softly, “It means yes,” a serious look crosses his face then, “I don’t know where to start.”

I look at him with hope and adoration, “Choose a name.”

That stops Ben short, “A name? Like a new beginning?”

Nodding furiously, my excitement building “Exactly.”

“At the conversion therapy I was having Gwendoline call me Kylo, but that feels painful now,” he puts his head in his hands, and begins to weep softly.

Placing my hand gingerly on his shoulder, “Everything will be alright; we’ll find a better suited name.” 

He sniffles a few times and nods, “Yeah,” he reaches for my hand and I hold it tenderly, running my fingers along his palm. After a good few minutes he pipes up, “Hannah.”

“Hmm?”

“Hannah,” he looks at me like he has something important to explain, “my parents are divorced, and I think it would spite my mother to name myself after my father, Han.”

I think to myself Ben shouldn’t name himself after anyone in spite, but that’s just my two cents and I keep that to myself, “I think that’s a lovely name.”

A face splitting grin appears on his face, elation overwhelming him, “Now what?”

“Pronouns.” 

Confusion furrows his brow, “Like, she or him?”

“Pretty much!”

Placing a hand under his chin, he thinks for a minute, “Well, seeing as I identify as female, I’ll take she and her pronouns for 100 please.” 

We both crack up laughing our asses off, and before we know it we’re on the floor of my bathroom, legs tangled together, faces inches apart; our breathing slows down as we realize the intimacy of our current situation but neither of us moves to remedy it. I run my hand through her hair as she pulls me closer, although I didn’t think I could get any closer; my breasts pushing up against her chest. I tilt my head upwards and leave a trail of kisses along her neck and jaw as she leans down to meets my lips with her own. It’s awkward at first, our lips don’t quite mesh up, but the longer we kiss, the better it gets. Suddenly she pulls away, cheeks stained red, lips plump as hell.

“Did, did I do something wrong?” I ask, worry thick in my voice.

“No, not at all; it’s just getting late and I’ve lost a lot of blood, I’m feeling a little woozy.” She begins to sit up, when I notice her jeans have tented up around where her crotch is, then I realize it wasn’t me that made us stop kissing, it was her arousal. But I say nothing. 

“If you’re going to be living here, let me show you to your room.” I stand and offer Ben, I mean Hannah my hand; she takes it and shakily gets to her feet. Her room just happens to be across from mine, and I find I’m glad. “The person who left couldn’t take their bed with them, so they left with us in hopes we could use it.” 

Hannah looks anxiously at the queen sized bed and then back at me, “Okay.”

“Okay, uhm well sleep well then Hannah.” I say awkwardly, before crossing the hallway, and entering my bedroom and closing the door behind me. Slumping against the door I can’t help but let myself weep. 

-

The duffle bag is missing from the front room the next morning when I awake, and I let my roommates know Hannah has moved in with us. I eat a meager breakfast of oatmeal and a banana, and it’s getting close to ten forty-five with no sign of Hannah. Worried I go to her room, and it’s eerily empty. I think about texting her, when there is a knock at the door. With everyone else at work, I go to answer and let out a sigh of relief when I see Hannah standing outside with her duffle bag. Letting her inside, I invite her to sit at the table and offer her a cup of coffee, to which she declines. 

“Where did you go,” I ask, trying to mask the concern in my voice.

“I wasn’t sure if you were serious about me staying here or not, so I left this morning and went to the park, and just ... sat around, but a couple of cops showed up and kicked me out,” looking down at her hands, she continues, “I tried walking around for a bit, but soon realized I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Guilt grips at my heart and I take her hands in mine, “I was serious about you staying here, very much so, I even told my roommates Quinton and Rose about you.”

“Oh,” is all she can manage before becoming a blubbering mess before me. I worry I may have done something to upset her, squeezing her hand softly; she recoils slightly at my touch.

“Hannah, have I said something wrong?”

She shakes her head violently, hair thrashing about, “No, no,” she tries to calm her breathing, but all that does it make her cry even harder, “I’ve always been kicked to the curb by everyone in my life, and to have someone say they want me around … “ the words come rushing out, through hiccups and tears. 

I all but leap into her lap, giving her the biggest hug I can, she wraps her arms tightly around me and I can feel her start to relax and calm down beneath me. Leaning into her slender body, I gently lift my face towards hers, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her jaw up to her lips where she hungrily meets my lips with hers. A slight hint of saltiness lingers upon her lips, as I continue to kiss her eagerly. Moaning softly, I rake my hands through her gorgeous raven like locks. She pauses for a moment to peer into my eyes, her own puffy and bloodshot; pupils dilated with desire. Upon standing, Hannah whines faintly, I graze my fingers along her jaw line and grab her hand and, leading her to my room.

Immediately after the door is shut behind us, I am thrown up against the door, my arms held above my head with one of Hannah’s massive hands. Bending down slightly, she whispers something in my ear that I can’t quite understand, so I just nod and next thing I know, she’s slipping her free hand into my jeans and über cute monster boy shorts. As she places love nips on my exposed neck, she goes to work slowly rubbing my clit. Tentatively at first were her touches, but the more I moaned and writhed against her, the more intense her touches became. 

And then she stops, “Take off your clothes,” she says, almost demandingly. 

Grabbing the hem of my black tank top, I nod, lust coursing through my body. Apparently I’m taking too long, because she helps slide the shirt off my body. Breathing hard, I unbutton my jeans and slide them down my legs, tossing them aside, I run my hands along my toned body. I turn my back to her, when she slaps my ass … hard and I cannot help but let a moan escape my lips. Hannah unclips my bra with one hand as she reaches around with the other and cups my right breast, gently taking the nipple between her fingers and squeezing it lightly. I push into her body, needing more and she chuckles more or less to herself as she can sense my desire growing.

Hannah picks me up with ease and carries me to the bed, where she lies me down and slowly peels away my underpants from my body. Wetness slick between my legs and I can see she is just as aroused as I am. I move to touch her, but she tenderly pushes me back onto the bed and shakes her head. Motioning for me to scoot up to the head of the bed, Hannah sits on the edge of the bed and just sits there for a moment.

“You’re gorgeous, I hope you know that,” I am suddenly aware of every scar and mark on my body, but I don’t feel shy or embarrassed. Heat flushes my cheeks more so than before, and I don’t know what to say, so I lean forward and kiss her; to which she reciprocates. Her hand wanders down between my legs once more, which are spread open. Exploring my folds, I let out a series of soft whiny moans. I buck my hips forward a few times, desperately needing friction on my clit; and she’s just continually teasing me. Gently caressing my lips and pubic mound, I can’t help but whine, and when finally she grazes my clit, it feels like fucking heaven. 

Grasping at my sheets, I begin to moan Hannah’s name in between breathy sighs. She spreads my legs apart a slight bit more, wetness seeping out onto the bedspread from between my thighs. As she continues to rub circles around my clit, Hannah smiles mischievously and I worry for a second at what she’s about to do, when she slides a finger into my slick hole. Arching my back up with pleasure and need, she slowly begins to finger fuck me. 

I can hardly contain myself, when Hannah decelerates her movements. She moves to the center of the bed, leaning forward, she places tender kisses on my inner thighs. Whimpering with every kiss placed upon my body, she stops and looks up at me, giving me a smile as sweet as honey. Focusing once more, Hannah bows her head, shaggy hair obscuring her face from view; and she is licking my throbbing clit. 

I gasp out loud when I finally get the friction I’ve been craving. Unable to control the motion of my hips, I begin to buck and grind against her, which she easily manages by resting a hand on my pubic mound and pushing me back down and holding me down. As she flicks her tongue against me, she slides two fingers into me and my hands are at the back of her head, pushing gently. Needing more. She gets the picture and ups the ante. My breathing comes in ragged spurts, as she swirls her tongue around my arousal and fingers me. I can feel myself coming close to orgasm; I place my hands on my breasts and eagerly squeeze the nipples, leaving them perky as hell. As I massage my breasts, I find myself coming closer to being in the stars. With trembling legs, I feel my orgasm course through my body, and I look down to see a very soaked Hannah and a wet spot on my bedding. 

“Did … did I do that?” I muster out, heat reaching my cheeks as I sit up, legs underneath me.

Hannah giggles slightly, stroking my cheek, “Yeah.”

I smile back at her and can’t help but laugh, when I glance down at her jeans. They’re saturated with … jizz? She must have caught my eye because she has gone a ghostly white. Embarrassed, she attempts to cover herself with her hands, which is futile, the stain is huge. 

“I, uh, should go. You need to get cleaned up,” she says, standing to go, “don’t you have work today?”

“I actually have today off,” reaching for her hand, she recoils at my touch. Trying not to look defeated, I nod and let her go.

She pauses at my doorway for a moment, looking quite glum, her eyes cast downwards, “Catch ya later?” Hannah looks up, obviously searching for some kind of sign that she hasn’t ruined anything.

“Of course, it’s still early in the day,” I begin, “maybe later we could go shopping?”

Her face faces lights up, but falls just as fast, “Rey, I don’t have any money to spend on anything. I haven’t begun working yet.”

“Don’t worry,” I promise her, “I’ve got you covered.”

She looks at me, apprehensive of what I mean, but nods anyways and heads out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone confused; this is the sequel part to Three Long Months. So read that first.
> 
> It's been over a year and a half since I've done anything with this story ... and for everyone who enjoyed the first installment of this, I apologize for my lack of ability to write and stay on task. lol. T - T
> 
> BUT I have one half of a chapter left to finish before I'll be done with the whole story. So posting it wont be a huge deal. ;)
> 
> I'd also like to thank BuffShipper for being an awesome beta for this story thus far. My wife also deserves some credit for giving me space and support to write this thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping for Hannah's feminine clothing brings on a bunch of transphobic remarks from shop owners. Poe and Finn make matters worse. Rey introduces Hannah to Rose and Quinton, where Hannah also begins her new job at the book shop.

We arrive at the mall in an hour’s time, and I can’t help but noticing Hannah’s heightened levels of anxiety. I honestly don’t blame her. She’s still in Ben’s clothing for heaven’s sake; she hasn’t even had a chance to get her feet beneath her! Taking her hand in mine, I squeeze gently, a silent reassurance that everything will be okay.

I lead her into the massive shopping center, and I can tell she is holding back a flood of tears. Hannah begins to tremble slightly in my grip; I pull her into a small crevice and look deep into her eyes. Reaching up, I tuck a stray strand of black hair behind her ear.

“We’ll be alright,” I say, hope filling the space between us. 

She stares down at her barely held together Vans, and shrugs, “I’m not so sure,” her red hoodie hugging her masculine frame where she really wishes it wouldn’t. 

“Well, we don’t know until we try then, eh?” always the optimist, the one who had to find the silver lining somewhere in life, I would be there to cheer her on. Looking me dead in the eye, she nods just enough for me to decipher. Beaming up at her, I take her hand tightly in mine and lead her into the first store we can find.

The salesperson was quaint enough to begin with. Her name badge stated she was called ‘Helen’. When I mentioned that we were here for Hannah, glancing at my tall companion, her attitude instantly soured. 

“I’m sorry,” she starts, and I can sense Hannah’s face fall, “but I do not believe we have anything that will work.”

“What do you mean?” I demand, anger thrumming through my body.

Helen looked at me as if I were thick, “We do not serve her kind here,” she says, venom dripping from the very core of her being. 

“Let’s go,” Hannah whispers, reaching for my hand, desperate to leave this place behind and forget we even try.

“No,” I am stubborn and I am pissed, “who are you to say, ‘we don’t serve her kind here,’” I point my finger at her. Sneering at me, she stalks over to the nearby counter and starts to call for security. 

“Rey!” Hannah grabs my hand and we run out of the shop, looking for the nearest place to hide. Stopping to catch our breath, I realize we’re in the middle of the food court and I feel my stomach grumbling.

“Hey, I’m famished,” I nearly collapse into a chair closest to the Panda Express, and by God do I have a craving, “I could really go for some Chinese.”

Hannah rolls eyes at me, “Of course your mind is on food after that,” she grabs my hand and stalks over to the Panda Express counter and we order two Panda Bowls; mine with fried rice and orange chicken, hers with white rice and broccoli with beef. Finding a table, we settle down and chow down on our meals. 

“I told you this wouldn’t work,” Hannah speaks with a very defeated tone, “plus, you haven’t even told me how we’re going to afford this.”

“There’s more than one store in this place,” pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh softly, “I also told you, I’ve got that covered. I promise.”

Almost slamming her fist on the table out of frustration, “Fine,” Hannah whines, as we gather up our food tray, she turns to me and places a hand on my shoulder, “One more store, okay? That’s all I can do.” 

“Fair,” I nod, “But we’ll be coming back if today isn’t successful.” 

Grudgingly we weave our way through the carts in the center of isle of the mall. I see a shop that looks perfect and we enter. Interestingly enough, Hannah and I are alone for quite some time before we encounter a salesperson. During that time we poke around the store, finding multiple items that pique Hannah’s interest. 

“Hello folks, how can I help you today?” a slightly older gentleman comes into view, his perfectly quaffed hair and tailored clothes make even me feel a little uneasy about our odds about this one.

“Uh yeah, we’re looking for some clothes for my friend,” I pipe up after a long moment of silence, looking to my right at Hannah, sensing her trepidation. 

Glancing at my gangly companion, he smiles from ear to ear, “Of course sweet heart,” and for a moment I thought Hannah was going to faint. The first positive bit news from our day and not from me, “do we know what we’re looking for?”

“Not really,” she says almost inaudible, “I honestly don’t even know my size.”

“Two easily solvable problems,” he states very matter-of-factly as he leads us over to a counter in the back of the store where there are multiple sets of measuring tapes and other miscellaneous bits and bobs for getting peoples’ dimensions. 

Eyeing the counter and its contents suspiciously, “What exactly do you need to do to me?”

The salesperson, chuckled heartily, “My dear, you have nothing to worry about. All I have to do is take a few measurements and we can get to the fun part,” his smile warm and inviting.

She nods wearily, still unsure if she can trust what is about to proceed, I squeeze her hand in reassurance. Letting go of my hand, Hannah strides over and he makes quick work of wrapping the tape around her slender body and along her arms and legs where needs be, getting the numbers we require to figure out her size for more feminine clothing. After what felt like mere seconds, they’re done and she has her size, and Hannah couldn’t look more pleased. With more confidence now, she wanders the store freely, stroking each piece of fabric as she passes.  
I stand back by the counter, completely enamored of her change in spirit, “I never got your names,” being brought back to reality, I remember I’m not alone with my thoughts and the salesman is standing right next to me.

“Oh, right. I’m Rey and that’s my girlfriend, Hannah,” I declare, before a second thought, and I really hope Hannah wont mind. 

“Well, you’ve definitely got a keeper Rey,” he replies, his features soft, “I’m Robert,” he extends a hand and I take it, his grip surprisingly firm.

“Thanks,” I’m staring at my feet feeling a little sheepish when Hannah comes back to us, arms full of garments. 

“Who’s ready for a fashion show?” Robert announces, taking the clothes from Hannah and showing us to the fitting rooms. Three bright pink plush armchairs sit in a row of one wall, while six smaller rooms with blackout curtains hang in front of each are situated with two along each wall and a massive free standing three hundred and sixty degree mirror in the center of the room. Knowing we’re the only ones in the store, Robert chooses a room for Hannah, and places the clothes inside, “There ya go sweetheart.”

She grins and steps in, looking back at me, a small hint of fear peppered on her face, I nod and she closes the drape behind her. It takes a few minutes for her to step out in her first outfit; a pastel pink blouse and a black pleated high waisted skirt that show off her amazing legs. Robert gasps and I have to stifle laughter.

“That is so not you,” the second I say that, I wish I hadn’t. Her face falls immediately, “But I don’t mean that you don’t look absolutely incredible! It’s just … I don’t know if this is an every day look.” I say, hoping I semi-fixed things.

She nods, “Yeah, it is pretty out there.”

“Show us some more,” Robert urges.

Hannah returns to her tiny room and I hear her cursing under her breath. Goddamnit, I may have just shoved my whole entire foot into my mouth while I was at it. 

Robert lays a kind hand on my shoulder, “Maybe we can keep some of our opinions to ourselves?” a cocked eyebrow is raised in my direction.

Nodding, I say nothing. A few seconds later Hannah emerges in a pair of dark wash skinny jeans with already there tears, a gray top and a black leather jacket; and I cannot pick my jaw up off the floor quick enough.

“Better?” she asks, fixed in front of the mirror now.

I walk up and lean against her, “You look great,” I murmur as I graze my hand along her arm. Shivering slightly, she smiles before bending down and planting a kiss on my forehead, forgetting entirely that we had an audience. 

Robert claps his hands together, “It appears we now have our look!” he states excitedly, “shall we keep looking though?”

Hannah and I stare at each other for a moment, and nod. It feels like we’re in there forever, but all in all, we spend two total hours perusing the shop, finding things that work and things that don’t. In the end, Hannah has about nine days worth of outfits when we leave, thanking Robert as we go, she’s dressed in that jaw dropping outfit; looking fly as hell. 

“So now what?” she looks so happy, and so cute, I can’t help but stop her in the middle of everything and kiss her. At first, she doesn’t reciprocate, but when she does; I’m in heaven, till I hear a pair of all too familiar voices, whooping and hollering. 

Pulling away from Hannah, I turn to see Finn and Poe sauntering towards us, “Of course it would be you two idiots,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Who’s this freak?” Finn questions, pointing at Hannah.

“None of your business, that’s who Finn. Now piss off, or I’ll have to kick your ass again,” I’m not in the mood for a fight, especially in front of my hopeful girlfriend.

Poe elbows Finn in the side playfully, “Go ahead Finn, I wanna watch that again. Seeing a girl lay you out totally made my night.”

“Not helping Poe,” I say, glaring at him.

Hannah’s just awestruck at the clusterfuck of what is going on to even grasp that she’s being called a freak. Finn slips around me unnoticed as I continue to bicker with Poe and slaps Hannah on the ass, hard. Letting out a yelp of displeasure and pain, she instantly turns on her heel and is face to face with her attacker; reeling back, she uses all of her strength to punch him. Right in the lower left jaw, and it effectively knocked him out. 

I gather her bags of clothes and grab her hand, “Come on, we gotta go,” I start running towards the opposite end of the mall where Finn and Poe had just come from, hoping to avoid any trouble. Finally we see sanctuary, a shoe store and Hannah’s eyes light up. 

Browsing the selection of footwear on the shelves, a young girl comes up to Hannah and I, pulling on my green plaid flannel, “You’re both really pretty,” she states shyly before running back to her mom across the store who smiles at us. Turning back to the shoes, I sense Hannah sighing and trying to hold back tears.

Worried, I ask her what’s wrong. She just shrugs and tells me it’s nothing. Obviously not wanting to talk about it, I let her pore over the shoes, and I walk over to the smaller sizes and pick me out a pair as well. Soon we both have a set of shoes, and we begin to walk out when security is swarming us.

“Ma’am,” the lead security officer says, facing me, “We’ll have to ask ya’ll to leave the premises at once.”

“Why?” I demand at once.

“Destruction of property, causing a commotion in a common area, and your friend here damn near broke a kid’s jaw.”

My jaw goes slack, “Destruction of property, where?!”

“Helen’s shop,” of course it was Helen I thought to myself. Fucking Helen.

That’s when Hannah decided to chime in, “We didn’t do anything to her store. She was transphobic towards me and we left.” 

“Who gave you the right to talk,” another one of the guards asked, slapping her across the face. Sniffling slightly, she raises a hand to her cheek, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. 

I rush to Hannah’s side, as we had been separated by the security guards, “Y’know we could very easily call your supervisor and let them know one of your men hit my girlfriend if you don’t let us go, immediately,” her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink now, as I wrap an arm around her protectively. 

The lead guard’s gaze shifts between Hannah and I, anger bubbling just below his calm exterior, “Fine, get out,” he says with the wave of an arm.

We gather up our purchases and turn to leave. It is difficult to weave our way in and out of the large group of people that had collected to watch the drama unfold with us and the security. I almost feel half bad for not giving them a better show, until I hear several folk utter ‘freak’ under their breath as we pass. Thankfully, we have no trouble getting through the amassed crowd. 

Getting out into the sunset, I stop Hannah in the middle of the sidewalk and hug her for the longest time. I honestly wasn’t sure how today was going to play out, but I didn’t expect any of this. She sighs into my hair and I let go after what feels like an eternity, we make our way to my car where we find Poe waiting for us with no sign of Finn anywhere. 

“I’m really surprised you guys aren’t in cuffs, man,” he huffs, glaring at Hannah, then me.

“Screw off Poe,” the day is almost over and I am done, DONE with people’s shit, “move or I’ll be kicking your ass.” 

I see him visibly shudder, and as he turns to leave he gives a little wave, “See ya freaks.”

Grunting I unlock the car and get in, Hannah following suit. She sighs as she sits next to me, placing a hand on her thigh, I can’t help but start laughing. A gut wrenching burst of laughter fills the car; Hannah looks over at me and a slow giggle low in her abdomen builds up to a roaring guffaw. We sit there, laughing together for God knows why for a solid twenty minutes. Slowly our explosive laughter turns into giggles, and then finally tears, as we both begin to cry, Hannah grabs my hand and brings it up to her chest, cradling it there for a moment. 

“What the fuck man,” she murmurs, as I gently take my hand back, resting it on the steering wheel and turning on the car. I know exactly what she means, today was a whirlwind of emotions, so many highs and an abundance of lows. I pull out of the malls parking lot and drive home in mostly silence, with Hannah occasionally sniffling beside me.

-

It’s rare that I get two days in a row off from work, but I take advantage of this opportunity to show Hannah around Quinton’s bookstore, aka, where she’ll be working. Knocking on Hannah’s door, she answers in a pair of ladies purple cotton briefs and a loose fitting white t-shirt. 

“Hey, I was thinking I could show you around the bookshop today and get you set up with your first day at work,” optimism filling my voice. 

Skeptically she stares at me, but shrugs; “Sure.” 

Nodding, I retreat to my room across the hall and get ready; fifteen minutes later I exit my room donning black skinny jeans, my absolute favorite pair of black Doc Martins and a black t-shirt with what appears to be a moon with a funny looking masked man. There are also two robots, one gold, one blue and white standing upon some sand dunes, a pair of humans also stand there, the male is wielding a light sword of some kind and the female is super pretty. A cityscape is behind them and planes are ascending into the skies. I’m waiting for Hannah in the front room when she enters, wearing the same outfit from the mall.

I attempt to keep myself civilized; “You look really great.” 

A slight tinge of pink reaches her cheeks, “Thanks,” she holds her arms above her head, stretching for a moment, before striding over to my side, “You look great too,” smiling she leans down and kisses me on top of my head.

I chuckle softly and show her out to the car, where I whisk her off to the bookshop. When we arrive, the shop is still closed but Quinton is inside getting things ready for the day. She’s standing at the register when we come through the door, the chimes attached to the knob clinking together as we enter. 

“Hey sweetie,” she coos, waving us over to come join her. We amble our way over to where she stands, “Rey, is this the infamous new roommate we’ve heard so much about?” she smiles down at me, before I nod sheepishly. It’s only been a day and a half since Hannah has moved in, and no one has really been around to formally meet her yet; but whenever someone is around, Hannah is usually hidden in her room and I talk her up like crazy for the five minutes they’re around. 

“Yes Quinton, this is Hannah,” she looks mighty uncomfortable right about now, and I don’t know if it’s the situation itself or how affectionate Quinton is being towards me; but she doesn’t say anything. 

Quinton extends her hand to Hannah, who dutifully takes it as Rose makes her way out of the back room. Upon spotting me, she nearly drops the boxes barely in her grasp.

“Rey!” setting down the load she was holding, she rushes to my side, sliding her arms around my waist, Rose hoists me off the ground and spins me around a couple of times before setting me back down, “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she has to stop and catch her breath from exerting that much energy.

“Rose, you literally saw me like … two days ago,” I say with a laugh, ruffling her hair slightly. 

“Hey,” she whines, ducking away from my hand, “I know, but I’ve been stuck at work and you’ve been off doing God’s will basically.” Her dark eyes are on me now, heat creeping up her cheeks. 

There’s a cough from behind us. Turning around, Quinton is showing Hannah how we organize our books. Rose and I make our way back over to the pair at the counter, “How’s it going,” I inquire. 

“She’s catching on pretty quickly,” Quinton nods, seemingly pleased. Hannah blushes slightly at the praise, “I think she’s just about ready to hit the floor.”

“Wonderful,” I go to Hannah’s side, and kiss her softly on the cheek. “Way to go sweetheart,” taking a look at my watch, I realize it’s about time for the shop to open, so I bid adieu to Hannah, Rose and Quinton, and head out for a delicious breakfast of French toast and bacon.

-

Hannah’s at the shop all day, and I have to stop myself several times from going in and checking on her. I’m pacing around the completely empty house, naked now, my preferred way to be when alone. A slight hint of arousal tugs at me and I know it’ll be several more hours till anyone comes home; so I situate myself comfortably on the couch and begin to tenderly massage my pert breasts, tugging softly on my already sensitive nipples. Moaning softly to myself, I let my hands wander down my body, feeling every curve and scar. Bucking my hips upwards slightly, my body craving some sort of release. My right hand travels downwards to my pubic mound, where I start to play with my bush and lightly tease my clit. 

My phone starts to go off; Black No 1 by Type O Negative reverberates throughout the front room. Not once, or twice but three times did the damnable thing ring. Wanting my - me time, I’m hoping this mysterious caller will leave me well enough alone.

Focusing on the task at hand, I begin to make slow circles around my clit when it twitches just a hair, and another louder, more uncontrollable moan escapes my lips. By this point I’m moaning Hannah’s name pretty consistently, my is vagina sore from the lack of attention. Looking around the apartment for anything to use for a quick toy to use, I find nothing. Sighing to myself frustrated, I plunge my middle and ring finger into my hole, and as soon as I do, more moans escape me. I slowly begin to finger fuck myself, while I use my thumb to rub my clit. My left hand is busy massaging my breast, while I build up speed with my right. I can feel my cunt tightening around my fingers as I increase pace of which I work, my thumb consistently flicking my clit and I throw my head back as I feel the crescendo of my orgasm overcome me. My body tightening and relaxing with each wave, until it’s finally over and I’m a sweaty, panting, mess.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a raging house party Rey attends alone, she finds a long lost friend Kaydel and gets high as a kite. After leaving her group of weed buddies, she is assaulted by a handsome young man, when Poe intervenes. He disses her top and she escapes to a bedroom where she witnesses the unbelievable. The next day, she is in major trouble at work and with Hannah.

Ten o’clock hits, and the house is still eerily empty for this time of day. I sigh softly to myself and put the clothes I was wearing earlier on in the day back on. There’s a party Hannah and I had been invited too, but she’s nowhere to be found. I try texting and calling her with zero response. Grumbling, I leave a note on her door, and I head out not quite ready for what the night has to offer.

I arrive at the party and the house is already overwhelmed with people. Anxiety grips my throat as I cross the entry way, I don’t even know why the hell I’m here and I’m just about to turn around when I see Kaydel. I haven’t seen her in what feels like YEARS. 

“Kaydel,” rushing to her side, she looks up and frowns for a second before recognition sets in.

“Rey!” she screeches almost like a banshee, she jumps up from her seat and nearly knocks me over hugging me, “Jesus Christ, how long has it been?”

Sighing, I shrug, “Too long,” I confess, I’m just happy to see a familiar face and I’m fairly certain she can sense that too, because she motions for me to sit down and join her group. Kaydel introduces me to her friends, who all graciously embrace me into their tight knit circle. Pretty soon a joint is being passed around, and I’m not usually one to partake in the usage of substances, not anymore. I’ve been clean for just about ninety-five days now, but I don’t think a bit of weed’ll do any damage. So when it comes to me, I hesitate for a moment … and take a hit, holding the smoke in me for as long as humanly possible. Soon I’m a coughing mess, the smoke from the weed tickling my lungs and throat. And it gets passed around again and again, before long; I’m a weed smoking wiz. I’m higher than a fucking kite and I find myself wandering away from the group, to find my fine ass self something to drink. My throat is dry as sand from smoking that much.

I weave my way through the throngs of people, casually bumping into a few of them, potentially making them spill their own beverages on my journey to the kitchen. Finally I’m there and some really cute guy hands me a red solo cup with an amber liquid already in it and I don’t have the mind to ask what it is, so I down the whole thing in one go. He stares at me amazed and gives me another, which just ends up in my gullet. I take one more from him and decide not to chug the hell out of this one, but savor the flavor. Turning to walk away, the cute boy grabs my shoulder turning me around to face him and starts to kiss me. Aggressively too. It’s like he wants to suck my soul from my body aggressive. I try and stop him, but I can’t get him off of me, that’s when I hear a familiar voice yell out, “Hey!” and cute boy who is no longer so cute stops kissing me, we both turn in the direction of the voice. And it’s Poe of all people. He looks just as drunk as anyone here, but he’s helping me?

“It’s obvious she doesn’t want you kissing her dumbass, leave her alone or I’ll kick your ass,” he says with intent in his voice.

“Alright, alright, jeeze,” cute boy sneers, slinking away.

“Hey, thanks Poe,” I lean into him a little bit, almost unable to stand 100% on my own. 

He waves me off, and looks at me, “You’ve got to be more careful, you could have gotten really hurt Rey,” the concern in his voice catches me off guard. We’ve always had an awkward relationship, Poe and I. High school sweethearts, until I came out to him as bisexual and he dumped me just before senior prom. Broke my heart in two, I loved him more than anything, he was my first love and only love … well until Hannah. She’s the one repairing my broken soul. 

Looking at my hands, I murmur, “Well, you still didn’t need to do that.”

Scoffing slightly, he tilts my head up towards his kisses me softly, old memories of his lips flooding my mind, “I know,” he says after pulling away. My mind is racing, and I can do is think about kissing him more, but he steps back and looks at me, “Do you know what your shirt is from?” he suddenly asks.

Glancing down at my t-shirt, shrugging, I had never given much thought to it, to be quite honest I just liked the design I admit.

He stares at me for a moment as if deciding what to do or say next, “Rey, you are probably one of the densest creatures I have ever met, that or you live under a rock,” before I can even respond, he continues, “That t-shirt isn’t just some shirt with a ‘cool’ design, it’s from probably from one of the largest movie franchises in all of history.” Tears begin to sting my eyes, how could he be so cruel, “Star Battles isn’t just something some pleb kid gets to wear a t-shirt of if they don’t understand it!” he hollers, a small group of people have gathered to witness the racket going on. Abruptly Poe grabs my shirt ripping a large hole in the center of the design, pulling away from him with such force I run into a person standing by, causing them to spill their drink on me. Both of them yell after me as I run up a flight of stairs into the master bedroom and hide in the bathroom which strangely enough doesn’t have doors, it just has those stupid ass beads for doors.

I sit on the toilet and cry for what feels like hours, but it turns out it’s only been twenty minutes when I hear the door to the bedroom open. Hiding in the bathtub, I hear two very familiar voices enter the room.

Giggling erupts from the bedroom as I hear the unzipping of pants, and sheer curiosity overtakes me. I carefully make my way to the edge of the doorframe and see Finn and Poe on the bed, with Poe slowly taking Finn’s pants off. Both with major erections. I cannot sit here and watch this, but I also can’t take my eyes away. 

Finn is on his back as Poe peels away his outer clothing, his boner sticking straight up for Poe’s enjoyment. Licking his lips, Poe hovers over the younger mans cock and gently teases the tip with his tongue. Flicking gently, Finn moans softly as Poe slowly builds up speed, suckling and teasing the tip until he takes the whole length into his mouth. As much as he can he can fit, which isn’t much, just saying. Finn is hung. Soon Poe’s head is bobbing up and down on Finn’s massive dick, with Finn’s head thrown back, moaning uncontrollably. It takes a few minutes, but soon enough Finn stops Poe and sits up pushing Poe into a kneeling position, and he starts to jerk off his orgasm squirting all over Poe’s poor face. I can’t watch anymore, so I retreat to the bathtub and hope no one comes in for the rest of the night.

-  
**

I awake in the morning drenched in sweat, very hung over and in a bathtub. Body aching and my head throbbing, I throw an arm over the side of the tub and use what little energy I have left to lift myself out. The struggle is real when it comes to getting up; as I begin to climb Mount Tub, I realize I am covered in my own vomit. I feel myself dry heave when I pull myself out of the tub and onto the ground, sending shampoo bottles and various soaps flying everywhere. 

I must have made quite a racket, because next thing I know, Poe is standing over me, hand extended, “Need some help?” Nodding, I let him help me up. I go to leave, but nearly fall again when Poe catches me, “How about a ride home?” I try to protest, but he doesn’t let me. Poe grabs me by my waist and gently guides me downstairs, around the throng of drunken passed out people. 

“What time is it anyway?” I venture, attempting to find my voice.

“Just after noon,” we stop off at the kitchen and grab me a glass of water for the road. Soon we’re in Poe’s gold and black 1981 Trans Am, speeding down the street. I’m holding tightly onto the armrests, fearing for my life, spilling water everywhere; when he pulls up to my house. He opens my car door like a gentleman, and all I can do is basically roll out of the damned thing. “Oh shit Rey,” he groans, “you alright?!” 

I sit up and scratch my head, fairly disoriented from the drive, “Where the hell did you learn to drive like that Poe?”

His cheeks turn several shades darker, unable to respond. 

Me seeing that I should have just left it alone, “Uhm, it’s not that you’re not a good driver, you’re just really fucking fast.”

He finally nods after a moment, “A lot of people say I drive too fast, but I feel like I get better precision with more speed.”

“Oh,” is all I can reply. I’m still on the ground, knees up to my chest, “Hey Poe, would you mind helping me up?”

“Oh yeah,” he grabs my dirty hands and lifts me up once more.

“I’m sorry if I got anything gross on your car.” 

He brushes me off, “It’ll be fine, and if I do find anything, I can always send you a cleaning bill,” he laughs softly as he gets back in his car, engine roaring back to life. Without looking back, Poe takes off into the midday sun and I amble up our drive way.

-

Quinton rips me a new one for missing work yesterday. It was day one of our book faire and all hands were needed on deck. So of course Hannah got thrown right into the heart of things on her second day of working. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is too happy with me. 

“I said I was sorry Quinton! How many times do I need to apologize?”

“Until I’m pleased, Rey,” Quinton looks at me with those huge hazel eyes of hers, and even behind the thick glass of her glasses I can tell she’s pissed. 

“Okay, Quinton,” I say, helplessly, “What can I do to prove I’m sorry?” 

She shifts her gaze from me to scan the store, “You my dear, may spend tonight after the book faire ends, cleaning the store,” her eyes snap back to mine, “from top to bottom, corner to corner, every little nook and cranny will be dust free by tomorrow morning. Got it?”

My eyes go wide, that will be no easy feat, since this store isn’t that small and I’m fairly certain it’s haunted, “Got it.”

Seemingly pleased with our deal, Quinton goes to check in on Rose and Hannah who are hard at work putting the final touches on books and magazines for the faire today. I walk up to the trio, sighing softly; I feel Rose and Hannah’s gaze shift to me. 

“Hey guys,” I mumble, barely audible. 

“Rey,” Hannah says before stalking off. My eyes go wide in confusion, I know I hadn’t spent much time with her in the past day or so, but I didn’t see reason for such a hostile reaction. Looking at Rose, I ask her what I did to upset my girlfriend so much.

“She saw you with that Poe guy yesterday, and it seemed like you two got pretty close,” she said with a shrug.

“Nothing happened between us,” I groan, trying to figure out how to explain myself to Hannah without digging myself into a deeper hole – but my explanation would have to wait until later, because our work day was just beginning. 

-

The faire was finally over for the day, and I hadn’t found much time to speak to Hannah. I let out a heavy sigh as I look for her throughout the store; first checking the break room, then the bath room and lastly the backroom. She was nowhere to be found, instead I find a rogue Rose, and so I decide to ask her if she’s seen Hannah anywhere.

“No. But have you checked the nook in the back room? That’s where I found her yesterday when she was having a panic attack,” Rose suggests.

“When was her panic attack?” I query, with a fair amount of dread in my voice.

“Around three o’clock,” she says over her shoulder, as she’s about to leave the shop, “Why do you ask?”

Suddenly a wave of guilt overwhelms me. A knot ties itself in my throat and I find myself unable to speak. Shaking my head I wave her off, as I turn to find Hannah, guilt firmly settling itself in my gut, right where it belonged – that’s the call I ignored yesterday. 

I make my way through the now abandoned store hoping Hannah was to be found there still and not at home. I round a corner coming up to the said hiding nook and find a pile of books and papers scattered on the floor besides a curled up Hannah Solo. I kneel beside her, gently resting my petite hand on her knee. Peering up at me with bloodshot and puffy eyes, I could tell she had been crying for quite some time. 

With every ounce of malice and venom in her body, she spits out, “What do you want?”

A slight shiver runs down my spine as I speak, “I just came to find you to apologize, and to explain” I can’t help but notice she rolls her eyes at that statement, “Whatever you thought you saw between Poe and me yesterday, wasn’t anything to worry about,” I take my hand back and begin to wring them nervously in my lap, “I got drunk the night previously, fell asleep in a bathtub, couldn’t get out of said tub, he helped me out; both from the tub and getting home,” the words were just spilling out of me and I couldn’t stop them from coming, “Plus he drove so fast and I was so hung over, that once we got home, I fell, so he helped me up ... again.” I look at her with pleading eyes, hoping she will understand, maybe not forgive, but understand. 

And that’s when the tides turn. 

Laughter begins to bubble out of Hannah now. In the beginning it was soft and gentle, almost a giggle. Then it slowly became a guffaw, loud and boisterous. And I couldn’t tell you why. Maybe she hit her head on the low hanging ceiling of the nook, or put in too many hours at the shop and was a bit sleep deprived? 

“Oh Rey,” she murmurs, her voice low and gravely from crying. She leans in to me, gaze locked onto mine before kissing me deeply. Slow and passionate, she cards her hand through my hair as I scoot closer to her. I place my hand on her chest, feeling the definition of her pec muscle – becoming acutely aware of her transness. Startled, I pull back from the kiss awkwardly, and just stare at my hand. She looks down at my where I’m rested on her chest, and sighs softly, pulling away gently from my touch. Tears once again forming at the corners of her eyes, “Rey …” she whispers, her hands dropping to her lap. 

“I –“I stop myself short; I don’t want to hurt the only one I’ve ever really had feelings for. Taking a moment to collect my scrambled thoughts, I continue, “Hannah, I’ve never been with a woman like you before,” letting out a breathy sigh, I go to continue, but I’m cut off.

“And I’ve never met someone like me,” she retorts, glaring at me now, “You at least know someone like you, or hell, even someone like me even if you haven’t been with them,” she starts to pick at her stitches on her wrists; reaching across the space between us, I grab her hands and pull them close to me, kissing her wrists and she doesn’t pull away.

“It’s just,” I catch her eye while still holding her hands semi-tightly, “I don’t know what to expect,” she wiggles free of my grasp and lays her hands in her lap, waiting for me to explain, “Well, I don’t know if you plan on starting hormones or anything, and I have no clue how to navigate that.”

“Why can’t we do that together Rey?” Hannah asks, fear flooding her voice, “I mean I don’t know how to navigate life as a queer person period, add being Transgender on top of that and I’m fucking lost man.”

I couldn’t imagine her running around trying to figure out things with anybody else but me, so I nod reassuringly, “Yeah, we can figure this out together. I promise no matter how hard things get, I’ll be by your side.” I stop for a moment, “Would you be willing to stay with me tonight, I’m supposed to clean to shop before we open tomorrow,” shivering slightly at the thought, Hannah chuckles softly, “What? There are probably ghosts and that’s good enough reason to be a bit spooked.”

“Well, if I get to experience some real ghosties, sure,” she answers with a laugh. 

And so, we spend what would have taken me all night by myself; cleaning, dusting, mopping and sweeping the whole shop – occasionally getting ourselves distracted by the strange sounds of the store and the taste of each other’s lips. Four full hours pass us by and we finally can say that we are done; nearly collapsing on the floor in one other’s embrace, panting hard, I find Hannah’s lips and begin to kiss her passionately, when we hear this series of high pitched squeals come from above us. Hannah begin to stand, and pull out her cell phone, as she does she switches on the flash light feature and shine it where she heard the noise.

“Hannah …” I begin to question, but she quickly silences me. Pointing her light directly at where the production of squeals came from and she sees nothing. Obviously frustrated, she picks up the closest thing next to her, which happened to be my water bottle. Taking aim at above us, she launches the bottle in the air, “Hannah, no!” I whine, too late as the bottle goes flying. I hear it hit the ceiling with a loud bang and it falls back to the floor, then silence for an eerie few moments. “What did you just do,” I whimper, anxiety flooding my veins, but before I could feel the full effect of what she’s done, we are swarmed by a bunch of bats. They swoop down from the ceiling, and they’re all teeth and talons, barely missing clawing at the two of us as they fly around in the store. Realizing we’re going stuck with bats swarming us if one of us doesn’t open the door, and fast, I race to the front door and begin to fumble with the lock. Mumbling half to myself as the bats continue to race around me, I’m finally able to unlatch the lock and open the door, the bats like a tornado swarm the front door and I’m left standing there, breathless. 

Hannah’s looking at me with wide eyes, “Uh, remind me to never do that again.” 

I think about it for a second, maybe the bats were what was haunting the shop? But all I do is simply shrug and nod, “Fair enough.”

-

The next week breezes past like nothing, the book faire is now officially over and it’s time to set our sights on higher things – getting my girl on hormones.

Hannah has therapy on Friday, and we figure that may as well be the best place to start in terms of getting her on hormones. Fridays are my day off, and Quinton begrudgingly lets Hannah take the day off too. 

Thursday night Hannah is standing in my doorway looking quite forlorn, “What’s up babe?” I query, as I saunter over to her, “You look upset,” wrapping my arms around her waist, I bring her close to me.

She stiffens slightly at the embrace, “It’s nothing,” she lies, “But uh, can I sleep with you tonight?” I can tell something is amiss, but I don’t push it. 

Looking down at the dingy off white tips of my Converse, I shrug, “Sure,” I kiss her on the tip of the nose and smile, “Let me get changed, and uh,” I give her a quick once over, “You do the same, and we’ll reconvene here?” 

Nodding, she wiggles free from my grasp and goes to her room, gently shutting the door behind her. I turn and follow suit, shutting myself into my bedroom, I lean against the door and wonder what could possibly be wrong with Hannah. I realize she’s going to be back soon, so I take my head out of the clouds and kick off my shoes and quickly change into my pajama’s; a slightly oversized Black Sabbath tee and a pair of black booty shorts with lime green detail. Moments later there is a soft knock at my door, upon opening it; Hannah is standing before me in a knee length pastel pink nightie type thing. 

Staring at her in awe, she starts to fidget before me, obviously becoming uncomfortable simply standing at my entryway, “Oh right,” I move aside and let her into my room, closing the door behind me as I speak, “You look lovely by the way,” I motion for her to join me on the too small bed, but unlike our first date we don’t sit there staring at each other awkwardly, instead I lie down curled up on my side and hold Hannah like a little spoon. Whispering in her ear, I ask, “What’s wrong my dearest?”

She gives a tiny shrugs and mutters the most unbelievable, “I don’t know.”

“Hannah,” I wrap my arm around her body a little bit tighter, “I can tell something is up, please communicate with me.” I kiss the back of her head as I begin to stroke her stomach softly.

“Fuck,” she whines, as she turns to face me, “I’m scared,” she says so barely anyone can hear her.

“You’re what?”

Rolling her eyes, she speaks up, “I’m scared about tomorrow okay?!” She lets out a heavy sigh and rests her head against my chest, arms wrapping around my slender frame. I reciprocate the action as I feel Hannah begin to cry in my grasp, loud, heaving tears burst from her very core and I worry she’ll be torn apart from how hard she’s crying and I cannot do a damned thing but hold her. 

I run a hand through her raven hair and sigh, “I do believe everything will work out just fine Miss Hannah Solo.”

“I’m,” *hiccup* “not so sure,” she tells me through sobs, and the occasional hiccup. 

I hold her close to me, her body pressed against mine, “Just trust me, everything else has worked out, yeah?” She gives me a tiny glare, but reluctantly nods, rolling in closer to me her eyes fluttering shut from physical and emotional exhaustion. Placing my head on my pillow, my thoughts drift from calm and sensible thinking to a slight panicked and emotional mindset. What if Hannah is right, and tomorrow doesn’t quite work out as we hope? I have to fight back these thoughts and emotions for quite some time before sleep finally finds me and I drift off into the blackness of unconsciousness.

-

Morning arrives a little too quickly for my taste. The sound of my alarm going off is like a jackhammer grinding into the ground right next to my head, and I can’t make it stop. Groaning, I roll over to find another human form in my bed and remember Hannah slept with me last night, and she looked just as shot as I did. Eyes still bloodshot from crying so hard, she stretches an arm above her head, causing her nightie to lift slightly exposing her trim stomach. The alarm is still blaring in my ears; I reach around Hannah and clumsily fumble about the edge of the bed looking for the damned source of the noise. Hannah laughs softly before reaching easily over and switching off the alarm, letting out a sight of relief I slump back onto my bed and place a pillow over my head.

“I’m thinkin’ about making breakfast, what sounds good?” Hannah queries, as she lays her head on my stomach. All I can do is groan in response, it’s too early, and I didn’t sleep well, I don’t think I can think about food right now, “Okay, French toast it is,” she says a little too chipper like for this ungodly of an hour, “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen in about half an hour,” and with that she’s out the door and across the hall. Letting out a giant groan, I plant my face firmly into my pillow for a few seconds, trying to decide if French toast was really worth getting up for. Begrudgingly, I decided yes, yes it was. Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I take a glance around my room; at the bookshelves scattered around, the lone mirror standing broken upon my dresser, and my tiny walk-in closet, clothes spilling out of it, merely because I’m a mess and can’t pick up after myself. 

It takes a good twenty-seven minutes to get ready, and most of that time was spent finding my always lost ibuprofen. I can smell French toast and overly done bacon from the hallway by my room as I make my way to the kitchen. Rounding the corner, I see Hannah, clad in a pair of denim jeans that she has altered to have tears every so often; with a few patches signifying her favorite bands sewn on, a black tee, and her leather jacket is hung precariously over a chair waiting to be worn. I slip into the kitchen completely unnoticed, and head straight for the plate of cooked bacon Hannah has left out to cool. Reaching out for a slice, my arm barely grazes Hannah’s back causing her to jump slightly at the touch.

“Heeeyy,” I drawl out, looking quite sheepish knowing I was caught in the act.

“Hey,” she gives me a once over, I’m still in my Black Sabbath tee, but I’ve changed into a pair of leggings. She shakes her head at me, “This won’t do.”

“Oh?” 

“You know how important today is for me Rey, please work with me,” Hannah entreats.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, I nod, “After I eat, I guess I’ll change.”

“Great. Thank you,” bending down, she kisses me gently before returning to work on our breakfast. “Looks like foods done, ya ready to eat?” Nodding, I sit at the table as Hannah serves up a delicious breakfast of French toast, bacon, and fried eggs. I don’t even wait for her to sit down before diving straight into my meal, I hear a laugh trying to be stifled and look across the table at Hannah; who is trying her best to hold back laughter. 

“What?” I ask, with a mouth full of food.

She shakes her head, “It’s nothing.”

“No,” I stop eating and look her dead in the eye, “What is it,” I demand.

Her eyes go wide at my change in behavior, and quickly responds, “You’re just cute when you eat, that’s all.”

Satisfied with the answer provided, I nod … realizing I may have frightened the poor gal I instantly apologize. Accepting my meek apology, we resume eating in silence, but I have lost a fair amount of my appetite at this point. I push my food around on my plate for a few minutes before gently placing my silverware on the edge of my dish. 

Hannah looks at my barely half eaten meal and quietly tsks at me, “You really should eat more than that.”

I slump down in my seat, moaning slightly, headache still raging, “Why?”

“Today is a big day, you know that Rey,” she looks at me with a pleading expression.

“Fine,” I mumble as I pick up my fork and scoop up another mouthful of French toast. 

We finish the rest of our meal chit chatting about what to discuss with Hannah’s therapist, any number of possible outcomes and how to cope with each of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah's appointment to get on hormones doesn't go exactly as planned. Then things at the shop makes matters worse, but nothing a little comfort sex can't fix, right?

An hour wouldn’t seem to be a sum of time that feels like forever, but sitting here waiting for Hannah to come out of her therapist’s office, these sixty minutes are dragging themselves out into eternity. I keep nodding off and I’m finally about to completely zone out when Hannah retreats from her therapist’s office, the door closing behind her. Standing up, I go to greet her. 

“So,” I query, when I reach her side, feeling probably more optimistic than I should, “What’s the plan?” dark waves cover her face, making it impossible to read her features. From my disadvantaged height of 5’6” to her towering 6’3”, I grasp her face in my hands, bringing her close to me, and that’s when I see she’s been crying. Anger hits me out of nowhere, blindsiding me, leaving me feel even more confused and frustrated.

I guess my feelings are palpable because Hannah grabs my hands and tells me it’s nothing to worry about.

“Nothing?! You’re obviously broken up about whatever news was delivered in that fucking room,” I pull away from her grip. I’m almost yelling by this point, my heart racing a hundred beats a minute. 

“Rey,” she reaches for me again, “Calm down,” Tears run down her cheeks, either from what happened in her therapist’s office or from embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.

After all the commotion we’ve made, doors to other offices in the suite we’re in begin to open, including the one Hannah just left. The man, Royce, stands in the doorway is a bookish looking man, late forties, the beginnings of thinning at the crown of his silvery grey hair, would never be caught dead without his infamous purple Converse or wallet chain, and usually donned an argyle sweater or a plaid flannel. He grabs us both by the wrist and pulls us sharply into his office, slamming the door shut tightly behind him.

“What the hell is this about,” I begin to demand, when he quickly silences me.

Hannah’s cheeks are bright pink in color, her breaths coming in rapid succession, “Rey, please,” her eyes rimmed red and begging I stop.

I begin to protest, when again I am silenced. Royce stands between Hannah and me now, “The fuss ya’ll made just now, needs some explaining,” he says, with an especially sour look on his face.

“Royce,” Hannah chirps, “We were just discussing what happened in therapy,” she glances at me quickly before continuing, “I just … I didn’t want to discuss it here and Rey wouldn’t have it,” the words were flowing so easily and it seemed to be smoothing things over. 

He shoots me the dirtiest look I may have ever received in my life, “That doesn’t excuse for the noise,” he points out.

“And for that, I apologize,” I pipe up, “I saw Hannah was upset and wanted to know why or fix it. That’s my nature,” I say with a shrug, “But I do, I apologize for the fuss we made.” 

At the mention of Ben’s chosen new name, Royce scoffs, “And what is all this about anyways? The whole dressing like a girl and going by a girls’ name; I thought your mother had that fixed.”

I had never felt so much anger well up inside of me as I had at that very moment in time, “Listen to me you motherfucker,” I start, before Hannah pulls me out of his office, through the waiting room and into the main stairway leading out of the damned place before turning around on me and hugging me as tightly as possible. Tears are streaming freely from her now, and we stand there for what feels like forever in the safety of each other’s embrace. Her tears slowing to a gentle trickle. 

I gently pull away from her grasp, “So, I take that as a no?”

Emotions raw, thousands of gut wrenching sobs escape her large frame, and I stand there frozen, unsure of how to comfort my love. She collapses in on herself, stooping in the corner of the staircase, with her back to the wall; wailing in complete and utter agony. Kneeling beside her, I lightly rest my hand on her shoulder and she recoils at my touch.

I swear to myself, I’ll do as much digging, and research as it takes to figure this the fuck out, but for the time being I have one very upset human to console, “Hey, how about we go grab a blue coconut slush from Sonic and give today a rest, yeah?” 

Her brown eyes peer up at me, the tears have seemed to slow - for now at least and she nods. I wipe away a tear that is rolling down her cheek, before I grasp her hands and get her on unsteady feet. Placing an arm around her waist to steady her, we walk down the stairwell, and make our way to my car. Settling into our seats, we make the short drive to Sonic; I find us a carhop stall that doesn’t have a ton of people around it and park. 

I press the red button and wait for someone to respond to take our order. A crackle on the other end indicates another life form is on the other end, “Hello, welcome to Sonic. How may we help you today?”

Surprised they didn’t mention any sort of specials, I launch into ordering, “May we get two blue coconut slushes, and an order of chili cheese fries, please.”

“Yeah, of course,” the almost robotic voice responds. Our total comes up on the screen and I slide my card in the reader by the red button, successfully paying for our meal. Hannah and I sit in silence for a few moments before either of us speaks; I’m playing with a loose string on the hem of my shirt when Hannah finally breaks the unbearable silence.

“How are we going to figure this out?”

I turn to look at her, “I thought we were going to give today a rest?”

She shrugs, “I just thought …” and she’s cut off when a cute young lady on skates knocks on my window, startling both of us.

I roll down my window, “Two blue coconut slushes and chili cheese fries?” she asks her voice far too upbeat. 

“Uh yeah,” I reach for our food and put it between Hannah and myself, I start to roll up my window when I hear a soft cough from outside my car. Looking for the source of the noise, I see the cutie on skates still standing there and I’m not quite sure why, until she holds out her hand … oh right. A tip. I scramble through my purse and find some loose change and hand it to her through the crack in my window, she scoffs at the measly tip I have to offer and zooms away, leaving Hannah and I in silence again. 

Picking up one of the slushes, I begin to sip at the drink while Hannah just stares straight out her window. I poke her on the side to get her attention a few times and she grabs my hand, her grasp firm, “What Rey?”

“Aren’t ya gonna drink you’re slush, it’s gonna melt if you don’t,” I’m trying to lighten the mood and be a bit silly, but I honestly don’t think she’s having any of it right now.

“I just want to go home Rey,” she looks at me with such a sullen expression that it feels like a knife has been stabbed right through my gut. 

I nod and start the car, putting my drink back in the cup holder, “If that’s what you want, fine.”

The drive home is silent, as I attempt to eat the chili cheese fries and end up making a mess all over my damn self, cheese and chili find a home settled between my breasts and all over my pants. 

When we arrive home and Hannah sees the carnage, she bursts out laughing, unable to control herself, “Let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?” she snickers as she pulls a loose fry from my cleavage and eats it. 

Rolling my eyes, I follow her inside and allow her to clean me up and have a little fun while we’re at it.

-

Hannah has her dark curls pulled back in a loose pony tail; random tendrils of hair are framing her beautiful face, I cannot stop looking at her as she surfs the web trying to figure out how to start hormone replacement therapy. 

“Rey,” she elbows me in the ribs, startling me out of my trance, “Rey!”

“Huh, yeah?”

“God, you’re such a ditz sometimes y’know that right??’ she laughs softly before kissing me on the forehead, “But as I was saying, I think I figured out a way to do this.”

My ears instantly perk up at the idea of good news, “Okay, how?”

“There’s a doctor in the area that does what is called informed consent. And from what I’ve found online, that means I would acknowledge possible consequences and have a full knowledge of the possible risks and benefits,” she looks at me with hope in her eyes for the first time I’ve seen in a long time and I’m elated.

I all but jump into her lap when she tells me this, “Okay, when can you schedule and appointment?”

She’s beaming up at me like she’s the goddamn sun right now, “I already did, they have an online form where you can submit information and make an appointment.”

I grab her face in my hands and gently kiss her chapped lips; she deepens the kiss by flicking her tongue across my lips asking permission for entrance. Her tongue mingles with mine as our lips collide with one another. She runs her left hand up my shirt and begins to toy with my soft breast when we hear a cough come from behind us. Hannah and I untangle almost immediately, looking behind us, Quinton is standing a few feet away from the couch with arms crossed; “Don’t you two have somewhere to be?” 

I quickly check my phone for the time and realize we’re late for work, “Shit,” I murmur, climbing out of Hannah’s lap and rushing to my room to get ready with Hannah on my tail. In no more than five minute’s time, we’re out the door and in my car, headed to the shop. 

When we finally do arrive, Rose is surrounded by a mob of angry looking middle-aged women, Karens’; her meek apologies are going unheard. I gently try to make my way to the cash register where Rose is trapped, but I am unable to get through. Hannah on the other hand, being at least half a foot taller than most in the store, makes quick work of making a pathway for us to Rose. 

Upon arriving at her side, Rose let’s out a heavy sigh of relief, “I’m so glad you guys finally made it,” she scans the crowd, each person demanding to speak to the manager.

“What happened to cause this?” Hannah asks as she leans across the desk to pick up the phone and call Quinton for backup. 

“Don’t you remember?” we both shake our heads, “Okay, that semi erotic vampire novel dropped today, and we sold out within minutes. Half of these ladies came in claiming they had preorders, to which I couldn’t find and the rest are complaining we ran out too quickly.”

I roll my eyes, as assistant manager it’s time for some major damage control, “Alright ladies, I think we can get everyone squared away, now if we can just organize ourselves a little bit that’d be great,” a thunderous roar of displeasure comes in response, “Hey, hey now. All I’m asking is for everyone to split into two groups, people who have preorders please stand to the left of the register and everyone else over here please.” Grumbling, the women do as I ask and get themselves in a somewhat of a fashionable order, “Thank you, Hannah, you and Rose take the group of non preorders and I’ll deal with the rest.”

Nodding, they get to the almost impossible task of dealing with these women. I mutter to myself a silent prayer and do the same. I hadn’t seen such a rowdy pack of Karens’ since we had the author for a children’s book come in to do a lil’ meet and greet type thing. Walking up to the first woman, I know just by the look her; this is just the beginning of a very tiring day.

-

It takes a little over half the day to deal with the crowd we had accumulated. After finishing, we close up shop, and I take us to the closest ice cream chain for a quick reward for all our hard work. 

A mint chocolate chip shake for Hannah, a banana split for Rose and a single scoop of cookie dough ice cream in a waffle cone for me; a table in the corner is calling our name. Once situated, we all let out a sigh of relief; Hannah is especially unnerved by the day that I’m honestly surprised she stayed and helped us. I can’t even count on two hands how many times she got misgendered, and that’s the times I heard. 

I wrap my hand around Hannah’s free hand, as she absentmindedly sips on her shake, “You okay sweetheart?” I query, gripping her hand a slight bit tighter now.

“Yeah …” she takes her hand from mine to hold her shake, “Why?” she asks as she stirs her shake around, with an almost anxious air about her.

“You seem pretty shaken up,” Rose pipes up, her banana split all but gone.

Hannah glares from Rose to me, “I’m fine, okay!?” she stands and storms off, leaving Rose and I sitting there in utter and complete shock.

I go to chase after her, but Rose stops me, “Let her get some air, alright?”

Nodding, she’s probably right. We finish eating our treats in peace, when finished; I try texting Hannah and wait a few minutes for a response. There’s radio silence. Sighing to myself, I head out to the car with Rose following close behind. I worry the whole ride home about Hannah, and I’m not sure what to say to Rose, so we just sit there, awkwardly. I turn the corner to our street and see a familiar figure hunched over on our porch swing. Pulling up the driveway, my palms begin to sweat and I feel tension building between my shoulders. 

I get out of the car and cautiously approach the swing, and Rose knowing better lets us be, “Hey,” I place a hand on the shoulder of my best friend, who looks up at me with teary eyes. Her response is meek and lackluster; it’s as if all the radiance and life had been drained from her in one go. “Do you wanna talk?” I offer.

She shakes her head, “No, not really,” I sit on the swing next to her, resting my head on her shoulder, “I’d rather just be in bed with you, cuddling,” she admits, pulling at a string on her hoodie sleeve.

“Okay, let’s go do that then,” I say, a bit too upbeat given the situation, but I could never pass up cuddling with her. Leading us to my bedroom and past Quinton, which was the hard part, but somehow we managed. 

Once we are in the safety of my room, I immediately strip down to my underwear and encourage Hannah to do the same … we usually cuddle in our underclothes or naked, so this isn’t an odd request for me to make. But she refuses, “What’s up babe?” 

Sighing softly, she sits on the edge of the bed, slowly slipping off her shoes, and then her socks. She scoots her jeans off her hips and down her legs and that is when I see the slight tinge of red on her sweater, what she was trying to hide from me … I kneel down before her and gently take her hand, which she tries to take away from me, but I hold fast, “Please let me see sweetheart,” I beg. Nodding, she strips off her sweater, exposing her flesh; I once again take her hand in mine, inspecting the wounds on her wrist, I see they’re not as bad as last time. I let out of a sigh of relief, and run to the bathroom to grab a moist towel and a few alcohol pads to clean her up. 

Once washed up and sanitized, I climb into bed and invite her to fill the open space next to me. Which she does, I wrap my arm around her waist knowing she needs to be held more than anything right now. 

“You know, it won’t be like that forever, right?” I ask.

“I hope so,” she murmurs into the pillow before she turns to face me, her long hair spilling across her face and pillow, “I really do.”

I kiss her on the nose gingerly, as she drapes her arm across my waist, pulling me into her; my face now inches away from hers. I hesitantly lick my lips, as I gaze at Hannah’s perfect set of pink pouty lips; she’s really been working on getting those fuckers unchapped and luscious, perfect for kissing. 

She leans down, catching my lips with her own; the softness at the moment of contact was mind blowing in itself. Pulling me closer, I throw my leg over her hips and gently begin to grind into her, which she doesn’t try and stop. I run my hand through her hair as we continue to kiss, pulling ever so softly – a moan escapes her lips. I twirl her hair around in my hand a bit to get a better hold, as I kiss down her neck, leaving small love bites as I occasionally pull her hair; making her moan with pleasure every time. 

Releasing her hair, I push her onto her back, leaving her quite exposed; I run my hands up and down her torso, feeling every crevice. Her mouth has gone slightly slack at the pressure being put on her genitals; I lean down and begin to kiss her fervently, as I continue to grind my hips into her. My hands are planted on either side of Hannah’s shoulders, and she sits up ever so slightly in attempt to deepen the kiss, as she wraps her arms around me. 

She unclips my bra as I sit up, tossing the damnable thing aside, she grasps my breasts with her massive hands; she massages them for a few moments, before honing in on the nipples. I moan softly in pleasure as she rolls my nipples around with her finger tips like a pro; I had stopped grinding on her for a moment, but I decided it was fun to tease her dick like that so I continued. 

“Oh Rey,” she murmurs every so often, before I tear of my panties and look at her asking for permission. Nodding, I quickly remove hers; revealing her twitching cock and I can sense a moment of trepidation. 

“Are you sure?” I ask, stroking her pubic mound.

“Yes Rey,” she responds, “Just fuck me now, please,” she begs.

A wicked smile spreads across my face and I nod as I grasp her member, running my hand up and down the length. Gentle moans tumble from her mouth as I slowly pick up speed, and stop almost as soon as I started. She whines softly at the loss of sensation. I carefully begin to bounce up and down on her cock, my breasts in her face and hands planted upon her chest. 

We are a chorus of moans, when she starts to pump her hips up and my head is thrown back in ecstasy. She begins to move faster as peak of my orgasm appears closer and closer. 

“Hannah, oh God,” I moan, as I continue to ride her dick, “Holy shit,” I feel my cunt tightening around her as my orgasm crashes around me, hers following closely behind; pumping her full load into my tight hole, I collapse onto her chest and grab her face, peppering kisses all over her face, “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met, don’t forget that, okay?”

Hannah smiles a tired worn out smile, and promises she won’t forget, before falling asleep, her form curled up next to mine. I fall asleep shortly after, never having felt so safe and loved in my life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah and Rey face some new challenges in Hannah's transition; some tougher than others. Together they battle through them all to come out on the other side. In the end, they find a new foe, something much larger they must fight. Is victory in their sights?

The next morning I awaken curled up next to the sleeping form of the girl I love. Today was the day she was to see that doctor about starting hormones, hopefully at least. 

“Hannah,” I whisper, kissing her on the shoulder, trying to rouse her from slumber, “Hey babe, it’s time to get up and get ready for your potentially very special day.”

Rolling onto her side so she’s facing me now, a hesitant smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Stretching her arms above her head, I take in her still very masculine frame. Her muscular body and broad shoulders an eerie reminder of what lies beneath piles of makeup and feminine clothing. 

Sighing softly, she props herself up on one elbow, looking me in the eyes, “Yeah,” she murmurs, before kissing me deeply. She gently pulls away from me, as she stands I get a full view of her gorgeous physique; tall and somehow so much more slender than when I first met her. 

She turns away from me to pick up her clothing from the night before and I can’t help but comment, “Nice ass.”

Facing me again, she sticks out her tongue before running across the hall to her room buck ass naked. Hopefully Rose and Quinton were both out of the house. 

I get up myself, closing the door behind Hannah; glancing behind me, at the floor length mirror on the inside of the door of my closet, I soak in what I see reflected back to me. Every freckle, mole, and scar; I trace down a scar on my stomach where it used to be red and angry. Now it was the almost the same color as the rest of my flesh, just a tad bit lighter. 

I hear knocking on my door, and it must’ve been Hannah, because the sound is gone almost as soon as it began. Hurrying, I get dressed and follow the sound of breakfast being made.

-

We’re in my car and you could cut the tension with a knife. Hannah is so jittery; not only from the nerves, but from the god awful amount of coffee she drank before we left. I told her to calm the fuck down with it, but she refused to listen. I swear she’s so bullheaded sometimes, but that’s just one more reason I love her.

The ride is short and sweet; the place as it turns out isn’t that far off from our place. Thank God, that saves me on some serious gas money, having to drive back and forth from that guy; Royce’s was a total drag. 

Once there, I step out of the car and Hannah hesitates. Looking back inside, I calmly say, “Nothing bad can happen if we don’t try,” and motion for her to follow me inside. Her feeling of anxiety was quite palpable at this point, and she grabs for my hand, gripping it tightly; almost cutting off circulation.

We walk into the clinic and Hannah checks in with the front desk, giving them the necessary information to identify her. Once checked in, she sits next to me fidgeting with the hem of her shirt; I grab her hands and hold them in mine. Soon enough, she is called back and she brings me with her. Her weight and height are first taken by a chubby nurse called Cassie, and then we are taken to a back room, which has some cheap looking flower wallpaper on the bottom one third of the walls. Utterly atrocious. 

Cassie then grills Hannah for about fifteen minutes for what seems like the stupidest shit ever, and finally leaves. We’re sitting there for quite some time, when finally someone pops their head in the door, “Sorry, Doctor Steele had to run out and deliver a baby, but she said she should be back soon.”

Hannah and I look at each other, like ‘what the fuck’ but nod, and the young woman leaves us be. I’ve been sitting on the exam table the whole time, and it looks like Hannah’s got an evil plan concocted in her mind. Sauntering up to me, she casually wraps her arms around my shoulders, and bends down, grazing my lips with her own. 

She is then kissing down my neck and exposed chest, when I grab her face, and bring it closer to my own. Leaning into her, I kiss her passionately, and with great fervor. Moaning into me, I run my hands across her chest and stomach, leaving little claw marks every so often. She places her foot on the step stool, placing her hip in between my thighs; I begin to gently grind on her when an older looking woman enters the room. Immediately, we part, flushed and embarrassed, but she seems to not have minded one bit, laughing it off, she tells us that happens more often than we think.

“What do you mean?” Hannah questions the mysterious woman.

“Well,” she walks over to the computer at the far corner of the room, and sits, logging in, she continues, “When I have to go deliver babies, sometimes we have couples who like to make out in our waiting rooms. Usually we like to break it up, but sometimes aren’t quite so successful,” she sighs and looks at us, with a wistful smile, “I’m Doctor Steele, by the way. And who am I helping today?”

Taking in a shaky breath, Hannah raises her hand, “Me.”

Doctor Steele takes a look at her chart, “So, Hannah, what is it that I can help you with?”

“I’m interested in starting hormone replacement therapy, and I saw online that you could possibly help me …” I feel the hesitancy in her voice, but I also sense the bits of hope peeping through. 

Nodding, the doctor takes a moment to respond, “Yes, I may be able to help you with that,” glancing over at me, “and who do we have with you?”

Surprised she didn’t ask that earlier, Hannah responds with, “This is my girlfriend, Rey.”

“Okay, well Hannah, I am going to be asking you a series of questions about HRT and see if you understand the effects of them; alright?”

Hannah nods and Doctor Steele begins the tedious process of asking her about hormone replacement therapy and the effects they will have on her body. All in all it takes about half an hour, but it feels like it takes longer. Apparently pleased with how Hannah answered her questions, the doctor claps her hands together and tells Hannah that they’ll draw some blood today and give her a prescription for the starter dose of hormones, and then depending on how her blood work looks, they’ll send in prescriptions for testosterone blockers. 

Doctor Steele pats Hannah on the shoulder as she goes to leave, “Good luck,” winking at us; she opens the door and steps out.

My beloved is over the moon with this new revelation, so much so that she bursts into a fit of tears, “Hannah?” I query, scooting closer to her, I place a hand on her thigh, “You alright?”

She nods; “Yeah, I just thought this would never happen and now that it finally has …” she stops and takes in a shaky breath just as Cassie reenters the room to take some blood from Hannah.

Noticing the teary mess that Hannah has become, Cassie asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Hannah responds coolly, as Cassie begins to draw blood from her veins, “I’m just a bit overwhelmed with emotion, that’s all,” becoming embarrassed. 

Cassie smiles, “I see that all the time sweetheart, no need to feel shy,” she wraps Hannah’s arms up with coban and pats her arm softly before leaving.

Sighing softly, now that we were alone, Hannah looks at me and smiles her award winning smile through her tears, happiness emanating from her core, “Ready to get out of here?” I ask, as I stand and offer her my hand. Taking it, we stop by the front desk and grab her prescription and head out.

-

Hannah’s usual pharmacy was at Wal*Mart, so we tried dropping off her prescription there first. And we or Hannah at least, got treated like absolute fucking shit. So many slurs were hurled in her direction that she left the store bawling, and these tears weren’t out of joy. 

In the safety of my car, she lets herself go, bursting into a full fit of tears; chest heaving, unable to catch her breath in between sobs. I try to grab her hand to comfort her, but she pulls away, defeat smeared across her tear stained features. 

Frustrated, I grab her face and bring it close to mine, “We will find a way,” she starts to object, but I grasp her face a slight bit harder, “No Hannah listen to me. There is more than one pharmacy, we will find a way. Remember when we went shopping and it ended up working in the end? This will too,” I look deep into her eyes with such earnestness that she stops crying and nods. 

Sniffling, she wipes her nose with the back of her hand, “Okay,” she looks out the front window and has a forlorn look upon her face, “Can we go now?”

“Sure,” I start the car, and pull away from the cursed place that made my girl cry the hardest I’ve ever seen her cry. 

Our next destination – Wal*Greens, where it turns out, the people there, are the exact opposite of transphobic. 

-

In the past year since starting hormone replacement therapy, Hannah has successfully changed her name and gender marker, and has begun to save for gender confirmation surgery, which she is super close to reaching her goal of getting. She also fired Royce, and found herself a better suited therapist, someone who valued the LGBT community, and Hannah’s transition.

-

We’re sitting in the office of the gender confirmation surgery doctor, waiting patiently. Hannah is vibrating in her chair, a bundle of nervous energy. Everything up until now has been going in her favor that she’s afraid today will be the day things will blow up in her face. I grab her hand, and hold it tightly, trying to ground her in the moment. She looks over at me, smiling weakly at me. 

“Hannah?” a tubby nurse calls out.

Standing, we follow the nurse past a maze of rooms and desks until we reach our destination, Hannah’s exam room for the day. She is instructed to take a seat on the exam table, and I take a seat in one of the chairs in the corner, tucked away from view. The nurse takes Hannah’s vitals, makes sure her medical records are current, and then leaves, letting us know the doctor will be in shortly. 

Once alone, Hannah looks at me with such fear stricken eyes that all I want to do is take her in my arms, and cuddle her close to me, when the door opens and a fairly youngish looking gentleman waltzes in. 

“You must be Hannah,” he says standing in front of the exam table, hand extended. Hannah cautiously takes his hand and shakes it, letting him control the intensity of the shake itself, “And who do we have with you?” he asks, motioning to me.

“That’s my fiancé, Rey,” she responds, trying to find some shred of confidence. This mans demeanor was … cocky as fuck.

He nods and looks back to Hannah, “So you want to get gender confirmation surgery, yeah?”

“Pretty much,” she looks from me to him, as she plays with a stray string of her shirt, “Also, I want vulvoplasty instead of a vaginoplasty.”

Cocking his head to the side, “Why?” he queries, “Most transwomen prefer vaginoplasties.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing … most transwomen. Not all. I don’t think I’d like vaginal intercourse; I’m not in a relationship with a man, so I don’t see why it matters to have a hole down there. I also don’t see why I have to explain why I don’t want it either.”

Sighing, the doctor nods, “You make some valid points, and I’m sorry for questioning you,” crossing his arms, he looks at her for a moment before continuing, “Now that changes things. You’re stay in the hospital after surgery will be dramatically shorter, as will be your healing time. I also think vulvoplasties are a hell of a lot cheaper too.”

“Great,” Hannah says with disbelief.

“We just need to go over a few things before we’ll be able to schedule you for anything.”

“Okay.”

“Are you a smoker, former or current?”  
Hannah shakes her head, “Never.”

And this goes on for another fifteen minutes before he’s satisfied with her answers. He lets her know that he’ll have the financial advisor get in contact with her soon. Excusing himself from the room, we are alone for the first time in over an hour, and she is over the moon elated. I rush to her side, and hold her close.

We leave the appointment feeling like we could take on the world, and maybe we could at that moment. I’m leaning against the passenger side door, with Hannah excitedly texting away; probably letting Rose and Quinton know what happened. We promised to keep them in the loop today. Once Hannah puts her phone in her pocket, she looks at me and is just beaming, and I can’t help but smile back. 

“Is it time for some victory chocolate?” I ask, knowing the answer.

“Hell yes!!”

Climbing into the car, we speed off into the sunset, on the hunt for the most delicious chocolate around town. In no time, we arrive at Hatch Chocolates, our local chocolate heaven. 

Holding the door open for Hannah, I follow her inside and the smell of chocolate and sweets hits me like a ton of bricks. Sighing softly to myself, we walk up to the counter and get greeted by the owner of the shop, “Hello ladies, what can we get for ya today?” her chipper attitude strangely too much.

“What would you recommend?” Hannah asks, looking to me than the owner, “I’ve never been here before, so I have no idea where to start.”

Nodding, the owner queries, “Do you prefer dark or milk chocolate? And do you like caramel?”

“Dark please, and sometimes,” Hannah responds.

“Alright then, I would recommend our dark chocolate covered caramel. Also our most popular items for dark chocolate are our Irish crème truffles and our chocolate covered strawberries, especially right now since strawberries are in season,” he looks over the case at the range of chocolate treats they have to offer, and then back at Hannah, “So what’ll ya have?” he asks with a grin.

She looks at me, as if asking permission and I nod, “I’d like four of what you just recommended, please.”

“And for you young lady?” he asks, turning his attention to me after he’s grabbed Hannah’s confectionary treats.

“I’ll get the same, just in milk chocolate please.”

“Alrighty then,” he grabs my treats and rings us up. We make small talk as we pay, with him commenting on how gorgeous Hannah was and what a beautiful couple we were. Thanking him, we leave and eat a few pieces of our chocolate in the car before heading home, saving the majority of our sweets for later.

-

It’s been a few weeks and we haven’t heard a peep from Hannah’s surgeon or the financial advisor; that was until today. She called at such an ungodly hour; we were still fast asleep when the call came in at nine forty-two AM. 

As it turns out, Hannah has saved above and beyond what she needed to save for the surgery. Twenty-five thousand dollars was the total cost, and she’s saved around thirty, somehow. I think some of the crowd funding we did helped. But hey! She’s got a surgery date set.

-

Hannah’s phone buzzes, notifying her of an incoming text. Pulling her iPhone out of her bag, she checks the message, “Huh,” she murmurs, half to herself.

“What?” I ask, as I’m splayed naked across the bed, absentmindedly drawing circles on her back. 

She turns to face me, confusion clouding her features, “It’s my uncle.”

I’ve heard very little of her family, she doesn’t like to talk of them very much.

“What’d he say?” I ask, sitting up, putting my full attention on the conversation at hand.

“She’s up for re-election, her main platform is very anti LGBT, and she’s trying to make conversion therapy legal again,” she looks absolutely mortified. We live in a very conservative state, and an especially conservative area all things considered, so the chances of her winning are high. 

Kissing her on her exposed shoulder, she grabs me and pulls me into her lap, “We gotta get out and vote then,” I say in between kisses. She nods, as she tilts my head up to better graze my lips with her own. I flick my tongue across her lips begging for entrance, and as I deepen the kiss, I allow my hands to travel up her torso, exploring her budding breasts. Rolling her nipple gently between my fingers, a soft moan escapes her lips.

My mouth finds its way to her other breast as I caress the first. I leave love bites across the fleshy mound that makes up her chest before I take the nipple into my mouth, making it hard. By this point, a continuous stream of soft moans are emanating from her, the HRT having made her nipples that much more supple and sensitive. As I continue to massage her breast, I reach down and grab her cock, which twitches slightly in my grasp. She gasps at the touch, and begins to moan wildly as I begin to slide my hand up and down her length. 

“Oh Rey,” she mumbles, I quicken my pace as I tighten my grip ever so slightly. She throws her head back in pleasure, “Rey, I’m about to cum,” she whimpers, “Oh God Rey, yes,” her breathing becoming more rapid and labored, as she moans my name. I keep jerking her off until she reaches her final moments of climax, her load getting all over my hand and her thighs. Sighing contentedly, she leans down and kisses me passionately, “We gotta get out and vote then.”

-

It’s surgery day for Hannah. She isn’t due at the hospital for another five hours, but she’s already up and pacing around in my bedroom, trying not to wake the rest of the house hold up, seeing as it’s four thirty AM. 

After the millionth pass past my bed, I grab her gently by the wrist and guide her to the edge of my bed, “Sit, please,” as she sits on my bed, I take her hand gently in mine, “I know you’re nervous, but all this pacing about won’t do you any good.”

She nods solemnly, “I know Rey, I know,” she looks at me with such anxiety ridden eyes, that it pains me deeply, “But I don’t know what else to do with myself right now.”

“They did say to come in squeaky clean, right?” I say with a mischievous grin on my face.

“Right …” she responds, an equally mischievous grin on her face, “Let’s go get me clean then.”

We head out of my bedroom and across the hall into the bathroom, careful not to awaken Quinton or Rose. Once in the closed confines of the bathroom, Hannah immediately strips off her pajama top, revealing her budding breasts and I can’t resist touching them. I take the nipple and gently roll it between my fingers, eliciting a whimpery moan from Hannah. 

She bends down and kisses me, passionately I reciprocate. Her soft lips moving effortlessly against mine, a tentative tongue flicking against my entrance asking permission, and I let her in. Our tongues mingle together in fluidity like they were meant to be one. She lets her hand wander down the front of my underpants and between the folds of my pussy. Moaning softly into the kiss, Hannah dips a finger into my wet cunt, and finger fucks me till she has to hold me up, because I can’t quite function on my own.

And without warning, she pulls out, placing her finger in my mouth, I savor the flavor of myself as I strip off my top. She takes off her bottoms, and we both step across the threshold of the itsy bitsy shower we have, I’m surprised we both fit to be honest, and I turn on the water to a satisfactory temperature. We revel in the water for just a moment, before I grab a wash puff and soap, and begin to gently wash Hannah’s gorgeous body, starting with her breasts. I get them nice and soapy, as I just massage the puff around the areolas, Hannah can’t help but let out a soft whimper.

Running the puff down and across her toned stomach, I continue down her body. Armpits, and along her awkward arms, her hands and fingers, across to her pubic mound and erect cock. Which I take in my mouth for a moment before washing, eliciting another moan from Hannah. I move down her gangly legs and finish off with her feet, letting the water rinse her off, I rise to kiss her once more. The water is pouring over us, and it’s kind of like kissing in the rain, but more intense. My hand finds its way back down to Hannah’s dick, my small hand wrapping around it, I slowly begin to massage her. Throwing her head back in ecstasy, I can tell she is getting close to orgasm; but I can’t let that happen without having a little fun of my own. So I stop, and with one swift motion, Hannah has me pushed up against the wall of the shower. 

My breasts and face mushed hard against the water slickened wall. With ease, she slides her hardened cock into my wet pussy, and slowly builds up a rhythm that is satisfying. She reaches around to grab one of my breasts, and squeezes the nipple as she fucks me; as I begin to tremble from being fucked, I let out this ungodly moan. I am moments away from orgasm, my legs start to buckle underneath me, and Hannah wraps her arms around me to keep me steady through my orgasm. She continues to fuck me, before she pulls out and unloads her spend all over my ass and lower back. 

Letting the water rinse my body clean, I turn to face Hannah, and kiss her gently. We wash ourselves off again, and get ready for the long day ahead of us.

-

I’m sitting in the waiting room of the OR for what feels like forever in between phone call checkups of how Hannah is doing throughout her surgery. The final call comes in, telling me she’s about half an hour out of being done with surgery, and then they’ll transfer her to a recovery room. After she’s awake, I’ll be able to visit with her. 

I’m glad this whole ordeal is almost over. Hannah has been through so much, and come so far, that I’m so fucking proud of her for getting to this point. It hasn’t been easy by any means, but goddamnit, she’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met in my life.

“Excuse me, miss?” a voice rocks me out of me own mind, focusing on the form in front of me, it’s the nurse from Hannah’s pre-op room, “We’re ready for you to come back now.”

“Oh, of course,” I nod, as I gather my things, and follow the nurse to the maze of recovery rooms. Trying not to look into the rooms as I pass, I accidentally run into the nurse, “Sorry,” I murmur.

She laughs a soft laugh, “It’s alright, and I’ve had worse,” she lets me into Hannah’s room, “Remember, she just got out of surgery, so be gentle with her, alright?”

Nodding, I enter the room, and head straight to Hannah who is talking to one of her nurses. Placing my things at the end of her bed, she looks up at me, for a second with the most confused look on her face. Then recognition sets in. 

“Rey,” she murmurs softly, reaching out for me, I grasp her hand and gently hug her.

“How ya feeling sweetheart?” I query.

“I’m in a little bit of pain, but nothing too bad,” she says sleepily.

The nurse she spoke to comes over with a medication to administer, “This is the pain med you asked for, alright?” Hannah nods, and the nurse gives the medication via her IV, and within fifteen minutes Hannah’s pain is all but gone. 

-

We spend the next three days in the hospital recovering, and everything goes as planned. No hitches come up, and she is sent home to my care on time. Once home, it’s more taking care of her; making sure she doesn’t start bleeding, making sure she continues to be able to pee, and her basic functions are functioning. 

After a few weeks of this, she is able to become a little bit more independent; getting up and moving about a bit more on her own. 

-

It’s been a month and a half after Hannah’s surgery. She’s gotten another text from her Uncle Luke, reminding us of her mother’s upcoming reelection. I look at the calendar on my door, and realize ‘Oh shit, today is the day they’re counting ballets,’ and I ask Hannah if she wants to watch them get counted. With a resounding YES, we watch them get counted. My hands cannot stay still in my lap, as Leia continues to plow ahead of her competitors. But suddenly, Larry H takes a turn for winning over Leia. And he continues this trend for quite some time. Leia then struggles to gain the upper hand on this Larry guy; it’s not even a close call anymore. Leia is now losing by more votes than she has, and there is no freakin’ way she is going to win, unless a miracle happens.

Hannah’s anxiety is now palpable, and I could swear you could hear my heart pounding in my chest at this point. The final ballet has been counted, and … Leia has lost. Her crusade of hate is over; she can’t push laws into effect that harms the LGBTQ+ population here. 

With raw emotion, Hannah throws her arms around me, and I hug her back with the same ferocity. Tears begin to flow from both of us, but they weren’t tears of sadness, instead, happiness. Knowing we had won, in some way … that we won’t be plagued with fears of our rights being taken away, or being shoved in one of those awful conversion therapy homes again. 

I take Hannah’s face in my hands, and start to kiss her passionately, Arousal tugging at me, and I can tell she is getting aroused too at the eagerness of the kisses. But she stops suddenly, holding her crotch.

“I think it’s a bit too soon for this Rey,” she says with a soft laugh, “but we won at least.”

I look her in the eyes, and nod, “Yeah, we did.”

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone confused; this is the sequel part to Three Long Months. So read that first.
> 
> It's been over a year and a half since I've done anything with this story ... and for everyone who enjoyed the first installment of this, I apologize for my lack of ability to write and stay on task. lol. T - T
> 
> BUT I have one half of a chapter left to finish before I'll be done with the whole story. So posting it wont be a huge deal. ;)
> 
> I'd also like to thank BuffShipper for being an awesome beta for this story thus far. My wife also deserves some credit for giving me space and support to write this thing.


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